What a Tragic Love Song
by I-really-can't-write
Summary: Axel is just a simple 'ol writer being swept away by the Bohemian Revolution of 1899. What's wrong with that? After an encounter-that most certainly wasn't planned-with the Troupe of Dreams, he gets swept away into a whole new world. The world of the Moulin Rouge. And that, my friends, is where our story begins. /title/summary change :)
1. The Start of It All

**Title: What a Tragic Love Song **

**Author**: I-really-can't-write

**Pairing:** AkuRoku (Axel x Roxas) Obviously...

**Rating: T**** (**will go up possibly/Most Likely)

**Genre**: It's a mix of Romance, Drama, and Humour, but of course ff won't let me include that laksdjasd

Hello everyone, this is my first fan fiction on this account. First fan fiction I've written in quite some time actually. This little idea came to me a few days ago. I've been in a ridiculous mood for _Moulin Rouge_! and I have been listening to the soundtrack and watching the movie all day. I was in a great need for some MR!AU Akuroku and I saw that no one had written anything yet (well anything that's complete). So I thought in the midst of night blogging "Why the hell not?" and decided to write this myself. Please excuse this, I haven't written in over a year in any creative form so I am a bit rusty...

***Edit* I am also very aware that the first chapter is very much like the movie and again I apoligize ;; **

Anyway, enjoy the show. ;)

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_**Chapter 1: The Start of It All. **  
_

_There was a boy; a very strange enchanted boy _

_They say he wandered very far…Very far over land and sea_

_A little shy and sad of eye…But very wise was he _

_And then one day, a magic day, he passed my way_

_And while we spoke of many things…Fools and kings _

_This he said to me…_

_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved...in return._

The Moulin Rouge.

It started off as simple red mill created as a cabaret. Soon enough, it turned into a nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello ruled over by Mr. Zidler. It was known by all as a kingdom of nighttime pleasures where the rich played with the young and beautiful creatures of Montmartre. They danced and entertained, for that was their job; to entice and seduce like a charismatic enchantress. The most beautiful of all these however, was the man who I had loved.

A courtier, he sold his love to any that asked. They called him their "Sparkling Jewel"- a _bijou magnifique_- the _beauté albâtre_ of the underground. And he was the star of the Moulin Rouge. But, the man I loved, and had given my very heart and soul for is… dead.

(…)

During the summer of 1899, I had decided to go to Paris. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, Zidler or of my beloved courtier. The world had been swept up in a Bohemian revolution, and I had come from London to be a part of it. I loved this new unconventional lifestyle. It allowed me to share this passion I held so dear to share with the entire world. So many others escaped the dull monotone of England for the artistic and revolutionary pursuit of France. This was truly an enormous and life-changing ordeal.

On the hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not, as my father said 'a village of sin' - But the center of the Bohemian world. Musicians, painters, writers, many people like I that also shared this fervor for the creative arts. They were known to the people of the underground as the 'Children of the Revolution'. I managed to find myself a small living space-just a lone room- with a vista of the entire square, the Moulin Rouge the star of the view. She glowed and breathed the very essence of the Revolution. So impassioned I was with the very idea that I could become a writer I left my home without a dime. But that didn't mean a thing to me. I had become a true Bohemian already-a vagabond that had come to write about truth, beauty, freedom and the one prospect I was overly obsessed with: Love.

There was one problem.

I'd never been in love.

I mused at the silliness of the prospect. A young naïve writer obsessed with love with no history with either. No matter, I'd make this work. Setting up my beloved Underwood typewriter-revolutionary this machine was- I gazed at the empty paper. Nothing came to mind, no love stories, no stories of suspense, and no stories of heroes. It seems this writing thing is harder than I thought. With a deflated sigh, I looked out the window for some inspiration.

Suddenly a loud crash was heard and a man fell straight through the window into the small balcony.

"Jesus!" I coughed and tried to blow some of the dust in the air with my hand. I gazed down at the passed out body in front of my feet, my heart hammering inside of my chest. A middle-aged looking man with blonde hair and beard was unconscious in my new living space. How was I going to describe this to the authorities? The door was thrown open in a burst and a man ran in.

"Pardon, Pardon!" He seemed to be dressed as a nun, carrying rolls of paper and tripping over the long hem of his dress. Frankly this was not what I expected at all.

"Oh shoot, Marly!" he walked towards the window and yelled upwards, "Lux's unconscious again!"

"Then how are we going to finish the play?" A voice replied exasperatedly. The dressed up nun looked around the room seeming to forget that I was still standing in shock from the intrusion. At that moment he seemed to notice my typewriter. He dropped his papers.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to be a writer?" He gestured towards the machine and then back at me.

"I… I am," I replied cautiously.

"Marly, what luck!"He yelled at the upstairs apartment again, "The man down here is a writer!"

"Bring him up then!" 'Marly' sounded annoyed by now. I stood there staring at the strange man for quite a while until he smiled sheepishly.

"Help me take Luxord up?" The stranger asked. I take it 'Luxord' was the unconscious man.

"Of course," Relief rippled through me once I realized I no longer had to explain a possibly dead body to the authorities any longer.

"I'm terribly sorry about all this, see Lux here suffers from Narcolepsy," The man walked over to the body and picked up his arms with a huff, "Random sleep attacks, always gets in the way of our rehearsals," I walked over and grabbed at the man's leg and together we started walking.

"Rehearsals? For what?" I was genuinely curious now. The stranger smiled.

"While our marvelous play!" He gave a laugh as if it was the stupidest question he had ever heard. I had to admit, I did sound rather dull at the moment, giving no more than two word answers.

"It is a modern and new love story that shall run for eternity!" He explained passionately, "Spectacular Spectacular!"

"Spectacular?" I repeated.

"Spectacular!" He finished," it's set in Switzerland and follows a young sensitive Swiss poet," He fawned over the idea. Before long we reached the above apartment. Needless to say, it was a complete mess. A weathered looking piano stood alone, covered with props and costumes. Many different exotic carpets, scripts, and music sheets littered the floor. The five people in the room were scattered throughout every corner, in a complete state of panic.

"How will we finish this with Luxord in this state?"

"I still must finish the music!"

"Who will replace him?"

They all moaned and threw the room into a larger scale of complete disarray. Frankly, I found it spectacular in itself. I had never seen a group of people as this lively bunch, all pursuing their artistic dreams. I was fascinated.

"Everyone, this is…." The stranger stopped and gave a nervous laugh," What was your name again?"

"Axel," I replied with a smile,"Axel Silsbury," The man and I had dropped Luxord on the bed rather haphazardly but he didn't seem to notice. With a swish of his hand and a mocking bow, he introduced himself.

"I am Demyx de Toulouse-Lautrec," he waved at the others, "and we are _la troupe des rêves_,"

"I am Sora Chasqui, at your service sir!" A young bubbly brunette popped out from a corner, dragging some theater prop through the mess. Another man with silver hair was helping him pull the contraption.

"Riku Desmendo," he muttered.

"Marluxia de La Par, _Monsieur _Axel," Pink hair, this man had style, "Perhaps you've heard of me?" A hopeful smile took over his features, "I was the star of a traveling act in my beautiful country of Spain,"

"I'm sorry but no, I am from England not Europe," I apologized.

"No matter," he brushed it off, "Soon we will be famous all over Paris, No, the world!" Everyone gave a cheer at that, except the only women in the group.

"Stop your squalling, everyone stop!" She had a thick French accent. The women looked older than the rest. Her hair was in a tight bow above her pointy face, a permanent frown and wrinkles marring her features. She seemed like she was the kind of person that was angry all the time. If it wasn't for her personality and age, I'd say she was once very beautiful. She held the bridge of her nose and rearranged her glasses.

"_Monsieur_ Axel, I don't mean to be _rude_," The tone of her voice told me the exact opposite, "But I not work well with others," She huffed.

"Then Leave!" Marluxia rebounded, "Your ideas are costing us the show, and we can't even decide on the lyrics,"

"We have Axel now Élite," Demyx reasoned.

She scoffed, "You don't even know if he has _talent_!"

The discussion went on, until it turned it a battle of lyrics. They threw words back and forth, the sounds and tension growing stronger and loader. I had no idea what to do in the middle of their discussion. However... _The hills… The hills… The hills..._

"_The Hills are alive, with the sound of music_," I sang experimentally. All movement and talking ceased. Everyone just stood there, mouths agape and bodies frozen. Maybe I had done something wrong? I was about to excuse myself when Demyx spoke up.

"I Love it!"

"Yes, I can see that,"

"That sounds lovely,"

"It fits perfectly!"

I felt a sudden wave of pride. I had no idea I could sing let alone write a song. I mean sure, everyone sings to themselves and absently think it's great. And lyric making was just like poetry, music and writing could mix easily. Maybe I could write this play with the troupe.

"That is it! I am done!" Élite screamed and ran out the door leaving the room in another note of silence.

"_With songs they have sung for a thousand years_," I continued my song. The troupe was overjoyed.

"Congratulations _Monsieur _Silsbury," Demyx gushed, "welcome to _la troupe des rêves_ as our new writer!"

Not even 24 hours and I already had a home and job? I was doing better than expected.

"Pardon me," Sora asked, "but do you have any experience with writing a play?"

I laughed, "No clue," I smiled.

"This kid has talent!" Luxord had awakened some time ago and used this moment to intervene, "Let us celebrate with a drink!"

To this day I have no idea what I drank; I believe it was called Absinthe. They gave me no chance to decline. The alcohol had deluded my senses and made me feel ridiculously confident. After the troupe had asked me if I believed in beauty, truth, freedom, and love and I replied with a yes that was screamed to the world, everything changed. I saw things from a new perceptive. The world was upside down. It frightened me yes, but at the same time it brought me into a state of euphoria I had never seen nor felt. In my drunken state we had discussed the plan. I was to dress in my finest suit and meet with the main star of The Moulin Rouge in order to forge our way to Mr. Zidler; we must first impress his main star and hope they would help us to produce this play. I'd pass myself off as a famous English writer in pursuit of bigger dreams and if the _bijou magnifique _managed to believe in me and help us in recommending 'Spectacular Spectacular' to Zidler, then it was a done deal. We would have a produced play. The sky darkened and the tone of the conversation leaned to a more serious side.

Throughout the laughing and foolery I found out each actor was just as amateur as I. None had appeared in a big name production to date. The idea made me laugh. Here we were, a bunch of rookies celebrating a victory that was nonexistent. The Troupe of Dreams. What a group we turned out to be.

We were headed to the Moulin Rouge.

I was to speak with the star.

Roxas Le Claire.

* * *

Thanks for reading the first chapter ~!

I decided to keep this chapter very closely to the movie 'cause like I said, I'm a bit rusty ;v; And also because I have bigger plans for this to become a bit deeper and it's own original story.. but still influenced by the Moulin Rouge movie? Does that makes sense? Probably not, Let's hope I don't fail.

Please tell me what I can improve on and what you liked, if not that's okay too.

Ah! By the way a few notes:

_bijou magnifique - Sparkling jewel_

___beauté albâtre - Alabaster beauty _

_____la troupe des rêves - The Troupe of Dreams_

:)


	2. And So The Plan Is Set

**Notes:** So um hi guys, I'm back with another chapter. _* I have a Beta now !_

Anyway ..** Important note**(more like constant reminder i'm sorry) : This will not be like the movie 100%, I'm following the basic story line but I'm adding my own flair in there. So, this will be more original I hope ;v;

Oh yeah, I don't know when I'll update but I do have everything set up and is planned to be around 10-12 chapters ;v;

And I hope you like how it turns out OTL;;

This chapter came out more gay than usual. Woops. Oh well . :'D

_**Disclaimer:**_ don't own kingdom hearts, obviously

Beta'd by the wonderful and delightful _Hellfire Pheonix,_ :') 3 Go check out her fics! They're great ;v;

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_**Chapter 2: And So The Plan is Set **_

As the alcohol slowly started to relinquish its hold on our bodies, I sat down by the window with what was written of the script. The story was good. The characters were interesting. The idea was clever. However, it was missing something. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I jotted down a few details and ideas on the side of the page, slowly singing a tune under my breath.

"Is it salvageable?" Sora walked up and propped himself against the window pane. Driven out of my train of thought, I gazed upwards at the brunette. He was smiling lopsidedly, his arms crossed across his chest. Sora was young, I could tell. Probably a boy oppressed by his parents like me. I chuckled.

"Well, we will just have to wait and see," Sora hummed in understanding. We didn't talk after that; it was silent saved for the occasional talking amongst the other group members. They were trying to get everything in order. We only had one chance after all; it had to be perfect. The silence droned on but soon, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Sora?" He looked down at me and away from his hands. During the silence he had pulled out a small gold pocket watch.

"Yes Axel?" He answered back, though his mind was elsewhere. He was tracing the watch's rim slowly and delicately, almost as if to not mar or break it.

"What are you doing here?" That caught his attention, "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to, I mean, I would like to know but its okay if-"

"Freedom," He muttered and scoffed at himself, "Isn't that what we're all here for in the first place?" I couldn't agree more. He didn't speak another word.

"Axel!" Luxord called, "It's time to get ready," I stood up from my spot and dusted off my suede pants.

Only one shot.

(…)

No words can describe the Moulin Rouge. It is its own world, its own very universe. Everyone around me; men, women, they were all dancing and entwined, drinking and laughing. I could tell the very soul of the Rouge was evident in each and every one of its patrons. Upbeat songs thumped in the dancehall, bright lights surrounded the entire theatre, and people filled all the cracks and cronies. It overwhelmed my senses.

I loved it.

I laughed around with the entire troupe. We all just walked throughout the floor grabbing drinks and dancing with the Montmartre girls. All was well until I felt myself starting to get a bit tipsy. I needed a focused mind if I was to carry on this plan. I decided to leave the dance floor, chuckling with Sora and Riku in tow. A few steps led us to a medium satin booth. Marluxia had managed to reserve one from one of his friends. I heard they were expensive so it must have been a very, _very _good friend. I slid in behind the others and got comfortable on the edge. A few more drinks were ordered and I politely declined them. No use becoming utterly useless and drunk. I still felt the buzz of _Absinthe_. What with the drinks we drank before the meeting and the ones we had a few hours ago, I was done for the night.

"Say, Is this Roxas… is she good-looking?" I asked. I played with the glass full of water, slowly circling the rim with my index finger while my other wrist supported my face. I glanced downward to my swirling finger, hearing nothing but silence. Suddenly, everyone burst out laughing.

"Wha-?"

"Oh dear!" Demyx chortled, his arms holding his stomach.

"We never told him?" Marluxia laughed in awe.

"Never told me what?" I felt a sudden heat find its way into my face and my entire body tensed. What was I missing?

"Well... Axel… Roxas isn't a woman… he's well... He's a man," Sora grinned sheepishly. I sputtered and glared each and every single one of them down.

"A man?" I seethed. Had they not thought to tell me this valuable piece of information sooner?

"I hope you won't mind?" Poor Sora was becoming redder and redder. He was probably more embarrassed than I.

"Well… I-," In that moment the lights dimmed. A wave of silence moved through the crowd. All stopped and looked up towards the ceiling. I gave a questioning look to the troupe but Demyx only smiled and pointed towards the sky. Everyone stood in awe as sparkling dust began to fall, only to be followed by silver confetti. Slowly, a body was gradually being lowered on a trapeze swing. I squinted at the figure; all I could see was a posed body. Leisurely, lights were pointed at the unknown figure and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

It was a boy. Not just any boy, but the most beautiful human being I had ever seen.

I don't know if it was from the sheer taboo of the whole idea, or if the curiosity got the better of me but I couldn't stop myself.

"I-I'll do it," I whispered. I stared in wonder as he held his body on the trapeze swing. His face was half covered by a small top-hat, a silver ribbon laced around its base. The suit that adorned his body was coal black, small stripes sowed into the pattern. The figure was still, the air of anticipation was felt in every single one of us. Then, he moved, a small upturn of his chin, sitting a bit taller, and grabbing his hat with his left hand.

"_The French are glad to die_," He smirked and turned his shoulder upward, _"for love_,"

"_They delight in fighting duels_," A teasing flick of his wrist against the ropes, the dark satin gloves caressing, "_But I prefer a man who lives and gives…_," He paused. A few people screamed an encouraging bellow. He smirked.

"_Expensive jewels_," The crowd cheered and became lively once more. The lights flickered back on and he fell backwards with a light laugh, holding on to the bottom of the rope. He managed to pull himself back up slightly and hold on with one hand, his left hand still free reaching out to the people below. He had let go of his hat and it was now lost in the crowd somewhere. Each spin brought him closer and closer to the ground.

"_A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, But diamonds are a_-,"It was hypnotizing. The way he moved his body, so fluid and seductive, the way he managed to keep everyone watching, focusing on him and only him. A sudden spin, a reach to one of the patrons, a giggle and a playful _no, _he was utterly enchanting.

"Having fun, aren't we Axel?" Marluxia teased. I gave him a sheepish grin.

"I thought you'd be disgusted if you found out it was a man, I thought it best not to tell you," He spoke loudly over the music.

"Well, I did have this thing - never mind," I shook my hid with a grin, "I didn't think he'd be well…"My voice trailed off and I turned my head towards the dancing boy on the small stage. _So beautifu_l, I had wanted to say.

"I get what you mean," Marluxia chuckled.  
"By the way Axel, I've arranged the meeting for you and _monsieur_ Roxas," Demyx cut in. "It's after his number, just you and him, totally alone," He gestured over to the stage with a mischievous smirk.

"Alone?" Panic washed over me, it was one thing to try and get with the dancer with everyone supporting in the room but alone… a number of things could go wrong.

"Yes, _totally alone_," He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. I scoffed and hit his shoulder with a grin. Demyx just laughed in return and called for the waiter once more. They had nothing to worry about, he kept on insisting. I continued to play with my now empty glass and started tapping my foot nervously. I glanced over to the young boy dancing before instantly regretting doing so. He was sitting in an old coot's lap with his arms playfully around his neck. He was smiling as well. I gulped and glanced back down, feeling embarrassed. The blood began to pound in my ears. Was I really going to go through with this? Was I going to be able to pitch the idea without a hitch? Would I be able to speak confidently whilst] being alone with _him_? Would I be able to-

"I believe you're expecting me?" A silken voice broke me from my train of thought. I peeked through my peripheral vision, curiously expecting to see a dancer. I was shocked to see the blonde instead. I gaped.

"Ah, Ye-Yes!" I blurted out awkwardly. With an outstretched hand and a teasing smile, he beckoned for me to follow. I quickly sat up, hitting my knee against the table accidentally. I felt myself stagger but he steadied me. The blonde laughed and pulled me towards the dance floor.

This is going to be a long night.

Each step brought us closer to the crowd of patrons and dancers. I looked around to see if anyone was noticing us at all but no one did. Everyone was caught up with their own dancers, watching hungrily as they teased and laughed for them. A warm hand pulled me close and I looked down at the young boy. He was rather short, reaching my collar bone at most. I chuckled.

"We have a private meeting, yes?" Roxas smiles, "but of course, or else I wouldn't have picked you up," he laughed and led me into a steady rhythm. He twirled expertly, held on to me lightly, and seemed to glide across the floor.

"And what shall we do at this meeting?" He whispered; his breathing was slowly becoming ragged. A thin sheet of sweat adorned his forehead and neck. His bright blue eyes were hazed in over exertion. I almost missed the question.

"A private p-poetry reading I was told," I sputtered. How was I supposed to act professional when I'm so affected by his actions?

He stopped moving for a second, his face a blank mask. Suddenly he burst out laughing.

"Oh I see... I love me some late night poetry," He all but purred. His hands roamed my chest and his arms found their way around my neck, like they had been around the patron not long ago. I wrapped my arms around his waist and heard him gasp.

"Let's take this into a place more private, shall we?" He whispered into my ear. A sudden shiver passed through my spine. I could almost see his smirk against my face. He backed away, removing my arms from his waist as he did so. He beckoned me to follow him once more. I grabbed his hand and was led through the dancing crowd. He dodged all the individuals expertly and weaved a path through them without touching them. I however, bumped awkwardly against a few other patrons and found myself tripping my very own feet.

He proceeded to lead me towards the edge of the Rouge, towards a private exit towards the left. Marluxia had explained this lead straight towards the "Elephant", whatever that meant. It continued with that pattern, he merging through silently while I occasionally hit something or someone until we reached a red door. Nothing was strikingly special about it, it was just a regular red door except the door knob that resembled a growling lion. It was crafted out of Ivory, smaller scale sculptures and patterns were engraved in its head. Roxas pulled out a similar key -from where I do not know- and inserted it into the keyhole in the lion's mouth.

"The man that helped us install all the doors and redecoration was obsessed with lions." Roxas chuckled and pushed the door open, "I think he even changed his name into Lion… or something like that," Roxas moved aside and gestured for me to enter.

I slowly walked into a small room. It was all red, saved for the small black table near the edge and door at the center. I heard a click -Roxas had locked the door- and then the blonde walked ahead and pushed the second door open. It led down a long and winding hallway, all still a very bright red. Slowly the hallway opened and a set of stairs appeared. The corridor that we were led to was bare except for all the doors surrounding us. Roxas walked forward and stopped at the sixth door. It was similar to the first door we encountered; bright red with a white lion handle.

With one last click, the pale door opened. I didn't even have a chance to take in my surroundings before I was pinned to the now closed door. Roxas held the sides of my face harshly, his small body pressed tightly against mine. I gulped.

"Rox-" The blonde's lips slightly twitched -he was trying not to smile- before he closed his eyes and had a full intent on kissing me. I quickly dodged to the side and happened to fall on the bed. Oh joy. I glanced back and situated myself so my face faced the blonde. He stood there in shock.

"Oh I see," Roxas held a hand to his pursed lips and the other on the side of his slim waist, "Not much of a wall person are we?" Those words were uttered with a hint of amusement.

What was going on? This wasn't what we had planned. I couldn't help but weakly retreat to the end of the bed until I felt a hard surface against my back. The wooden bed frame was the only thing stopping me from moving. Roxas let out a laugh and practically crawled after me. In no time at all he was on the foot of the bed, caressing my leg above the pants fabric. And in even lesser time the small blonde was seated snuggly right atop of my crotch. I tried to push him away but apparently I did something wrong -or right dear _god_- and Roxas let out an expert moan, his hands spread delicately once again over my chest. Those bright blue eyes were closed, his brows slightly knitted in concentration, his cheeks and ears slightly tinted pink and his lips opened wantonly, letting out a string of small noises.

I was slowly losing my coherent reasoning. My tongue darted out quickly to moisturize my suddenly dry lips and swallowed the lump developing in my throat.

"Roxas what are you-" I gasped. Roxas had decided to start playing with the lobe of my ear, and his hands started traveling south close to-

I ducked once again. Rolling off the bed I felt the air suddenly leave my lungs quickly but I looked back up to see Roxas confused once again.

"What's going on?" I breathed; my heart was hammering in my ears. Jumping to my feet, I tried to regain composure but failed miserably considering the fact that my hands were slightly shaking. I ran a nervous hand throw my hair.

"But Duke, is this not what you had wanted?" Roxas sat up and crossed his legs on top of the bed.

"Duke? I'm not a Duke," I questioned. What was going on? That piqued his interest. His eyes widened and he let out disbelieving laugh, running a hand across his face and through his hair. He muttered something incomprehensible to himself and I was about to ask him what he meant when suddenly someone knocked on the door. His head snapped up towards the noise and I felt my own heart sink.

"Xemnas!" Roxas flailed and managed to quickly walk over to the door -tripping a bit over his feet I may add- and let a forced smile take over his features.

"Roxas, getting ahead of us now are we?" He spoke quietly, "The Duke had wondered where it was you had run off to," The man named Xemnas was quite a sight. Disheveled silver-white hair, lightly tanned skin and wearing a deep crimson suit filled with small little feathers and beads and patterns that seemed almost comically on the man. His eyes were gold, and his lips were set in a thin line. Suddenly those eyes were looking straight at me and I couldn't help but try to stand a bit straighter and at least look somewhat professional.

"And this is?" He smirked. I looked quickly at Roxas, who seemed delightfully confused. I was about to open my mouth and answer when a voice interrupted me.

"Sorry I'm late, one of the dancers didn't want to let me leave," The voice let out a small laugh and soon entered the room with the rest of us. Xemnas just seemed to ignore me now.

"Roxas _this_ is the Duke," He stated simply, "This is Monsieur Reno Van Cowan, Duke of the Cornwell family," The man in questioned smiled.

Roxas stood silent for another moment before walking over to 'Reno' and snaked his arms around his neck.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Duke," He murmured. That took me by surprise. Was Roxas here some type of prostitute? But he was a dancer, _just_ a dancer. Did he seriously jump on anyone that happened to have some nobility or a title?

"You, why are _you_ here?" Xemnas finally seemed to realize that someone else was here. However, that still didn't give me enough time to give an answer; I didn't know what I was doing here at all anymore.

"I-I-well I-,"

"He's the new writer Mr. Zidler," Roxas inputted and smiled once more at Reno.

"Oh um yeah! I'm Axel Silsbury, Mr. Zidler," I reached out my hand in hopes that he would shake it. He didn't.

"Oh is he really now?" Geez it was real hard to please the man wasn't it?

"Well Axel, shouldn't the rest of the writers be here then?" It was Reno, "You two, why were you alone?" He smirked and allowed his hands to reach around the small boy's waist. His fingers slowly trailed invisible patterns across his rib cage. Roxas bit his lip and let out a breathy gasp. I blanched and just tried to ignore him.

"I had a sudden burst of inspiration and had to tell Roxas about it before it left," I gritted through my teeth.

The blonde in question just nodded his head not taking his eyes from the Duke and said, "Well thank you for letting me know _Monsieu_r Axel I'll meet with you in the morning to talk more about it. Shall we say 8 o'clock?"

I nodded.

"Xemnas, is that all right with you?" Xemnas had just let out an acknowledging hum and left. I decided to do the same.

"Well, I guess I'll be off now. Thank you for listening to me, Roxas." I bowed and saw a matching pair of blue eyes staring me down. "Reno." They both just nodded and went back to their interactions. That made me sick. I just walked out of the doors and headed straight back to the dance floor part of the Rouge. Throughout my entire way down I told myself I was not jealous, I was disgusted at the fact that that young boy had no respect for his body; definitely not jealous. How could I be? He wasn't mine, I had just met him, I didn't own him.

Once I reached the troupe, I told them the news that we had gotten the job. They were overjoyed. Demyx had gotten everyone more drinks and we decided to stay to celebrate.

Later on in the night I danced with a small petite blonde, some type of drink absently in my hand. I didn't go and dance with her because her hair reminded me of him. She had started to caress my chest later on. I didn't allow her to because it reminded me of his touches, I did it because I was a man and I most definitely had needs. And later on I most definitely did not kiss her because I hadn't kissed his lips tonight.

* * *

So um.

yeah.

/Oh Roxas, don't be such a whore~

Reviews are nice , pffftt.

OTL;;

Trivia ! The re-decorator was Leon :'D


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